The 'Lost Property' Box
by LapinNoire
Summary: Drabble collection: a load of things I started but never finished and didn't really want to throw away, much like the contents of the lost property box. All contain SeiferxQuistis, some contain other pairings along the way. Some chapters might get updates, but they are unlikely unless I feel the bunnies returning. No lemons yet, but maybe.
1. Caird Du Chapter 1

A/N: Please note that I don't often write one-shots and I'm frequently not very good at them when I try to write them. This 'story' is a collection of 'one-shots' but the one shots are only as such because they are plot bunnies which never made it to full form.

I've written a whole bunch of them over the years and they've gathered up enough dust to last a lifetime. I thought about deleting them all, but couldn't bring myself to do it and I don't want to start a million new stories just because the plot bunnies have hit in raging force - so I'm going to put them all here, enjoy them if you will, leave a review if you like and if you think any of them are worth more than remaining as simple plot-bunnies... let me know - I will write more.

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Caird Du \- Part 1.

Flat, open grassland ran to a sharp stop at the foothills of the jagged highland mountains and the edge of the Kingdom of Trabia. The green luscious terrain which was so perfectly suited to arable farming and horsemanship was left far behind the little convoy of wagons and a singular carriage, which slipped between the limestone peaks of the Tursus valley, their tops hidden by foreboding grey clouds which hung low and heavy in the cold mountain air.

They had not gone far yet and already the disparate temperature was discernible. The warming rays of summer sun could not reach here and the road itself was slick with icy dew, though it was passed midday already. Vegetation did not grow well here, the stumpy trees and minute mountain flowers were testament to the struggles of the climate. No birdsong graced the air and the only smells were of damp earth and the faint, musty smell of the horses.

The small band trekked all afternoon, making slow but steady progress along the narrow spindly mountain paths which climbed all the while. When evening came and they were forced to make camp the clouds had descended around them again, drawing the cold in with them.

The guards breathed into their hands and clutched their cloaks tighter about their tired bodies, taking shelter in the lee of the carriages, under the wagons on blankets to keep away the freezing temperature of the ground beneath them. In their carriages, the nobles huddled closer together and dozed fitfully.

Thunder rumbled around the valley through the night and by morning it had begun to drizzle. No heat now remained in the hearts of the convoy and they journeyed onwards, ever upwards while silence hung over them like a thick woolen blanket.

Their journey remained in this muted fashion of dulled noise and bleak mist for a further three days with food being passed cold down the line, hams and cheeses, bread and wine to keep their spirits and energy up. Eventually the steady climb became a gentle descent and the temperature began to rise. A stream materialised from the side of the mountain and ran along beside them for a while, adding pretty bubbling and tricking noises to the clop of the horses' hooves and the pat of booted feet. The trees began after some time to grow taller and around midday on the fifth day the sun broke the clouds and showered them with much missed warmth. There was no time to enjoy it though and the nobles kept to their carriages, though one in particular would have liked very much to get out into the light and enjoy what she privately considered to be the last shred of happiness she might ever experience or see again.

This convoy was on a diplomatic mission. For the past 1000 years the Kingdom of Trabia was known to be very divided and politically unstable. Small tribes dwelt in the mountains when they did not want to live beneath the yolk of the then king and turned to banditry to feed themselves. The mountains had been a dangerous den of thieves, cutthroats and liars for as long as there had been history books to tell of the short, stocky breed who dwelt between the rocky promontories. Living outside of the harsh terrain had always been relatively safe, it was only upon venturing into the murk and the mist that one might have found themselves at risk. Almost 15 years ago however things had changed. Raiding parties had begun to emerge from the mountains and target villages and communities within a days' ride, burning, raping and pillaging as they went. These were not, as it had first been thought, random, uncoordinated attacks made by gutsy bands of outcasts and rebels. There were reports of these raiding parties wearing armour, decorated with the Royal Trabian coat of arms.

The attacks had increased in magnitude and severity over the years and it was only last summer that news of the Kingdom of Dollet's defeat by the Trabians had graced the halls of the Royal Balambian Court. The Kingdoms who abutted the Tursus Mountain Range flew into an immediate panic. Trabia, for all of it's short comings, was large and impenetrable. It had always been a threat, a dark cloud looming on the horizon so that no sun could ever feel truly warm, no harvest truly bountiful, no new born son truly cherished lest they all be stolen away on the end of a Trabian ruffian's blade. However, never before had Trabia ever shown itself capable of defeating a _country_.

The 'Principality' of Dollet now sat in chains on the edge of the sea, a vital source of wealth and prosperity for the otherwise landlocked mountainous Monarchy and a warning to the other surrounding Monarchies who would take 990 years of Trabian disorganisation for granted.

It was for this reason that the King of Balamb had decided he had no choice but to send the Kingdom of Trabia a gift - his daughter - to curry their favour and avoid his own country suffering the same fate as Dollet.

On the sixth day of their travels the caravan eventually arrived within sight of the city of Caird Dû. They had passed through a long dark crevasse which hung on both sides with damp moss and climbing ivy, rivlets of ice cold mineral rich water running down either side of the narrow corridor which appeared to continue on for an age, but which opened out onto the loveliest scene.

The whole brigade was somewhat dumbstruck by the beauty of it. On their right the path to Caird Dû ran alongside the steep mountain face, the wall of which was slick with water and dark green moss, but which shimmered like silver in the sunlight which poured down from above. The path was overhung by green trees which clung to the rocky face with determination, their branches hanging down around the path like a glowing green ceiling. On their left there fell a waterfall, crashing down from far above their heads to far below their feet, spraying them all with a fine mist and dusting the moss on the path with a constant supply of moisture. The free edge of the path fell away sharply to the valley below which sprawled like a great green carpet before them, criss-crossed by rivers and streams and dotted in places by farmsteads which made little patchwork decorations on the lustrous tapestry. The sides of the valley were a mixture of limestone and granite, giving the exposed rocks an oddly mottled, but not unattractive look.

Above all of this, clinging to the mountainside like a stone claw, its spires and towers reaching like stalagmites to the open sky, was Caird Dû. The city was enormous and the Balambian Princess could not help but stare at it in awe, leaning as she was from her carriage window, craning her neck to get a better look at the place which would, for the foreseeable future, be her home.

It appeared to be carved from the very mountain itself, the walls of the city sprouted in rings around each echelon, dividing the city into segments from which sprang a number of waterfalls. They supplied every inch of the city with good clean running water, taken straight from the mountains and funnelled through the stony monolith to shoot from its face and crash down to the valley below. The whole city was covered in climbing ivy and other creepers and vines giving it a well worn, weathered appearance which far from detracting from its beauty, leant it a hardy, rugged charm. The grey Royal coat of arms hung from balconies and the battlements, fluttering in the warm wind that surged up from the protection of the valley.

They descended even further as they approached and had almost arrived in the valley proper on the other side of the city, before they were forced into a dramatic about-face for a steep incline once more. They zig-zagged their way up the mountain in front of Caird Dû for the remainder of that day and it was quite dark by the time they arrived at the gates of the city. They were detained only for a moment before being informed by the rather gruff man at the gate that they were late and that the escort which had been sent for them by the King was awaiting them at the next gate, the gate to the nobility's district.

The caravan found the city itself to be no easier going. The roads here were winding and narrow, littered with vegetable matter and straw, children darting around the horses' feet and running alongside the carriages, stealing small items from the wagons and generally making the going tough. When they eventually arrived at the gate to the second level they were greeted by some very sour faced guards and a few of the nobility who looked for all the world as though greeting the Princess of a foreign land was beneath them.

The Princess kept herself well back from the windows of her carriage, feeling far safer in the darkness and away from their prying eyes though it did not stop them from staring in. It was not long before she found herself wishing for the cold silence of the past few days, if only for the privacy it had afforded her.

The nobility district was much cleaner than the peasantry district, the streets were wider and the houses noticeably grander, though the architecture of the city was fairly uniform throughout. the procession continued to climb until they arrived at the palace which occupied the top 3 tiers of the city. The Balambian horses were disastrously under prepared for the landscape they had been required to traverse and trundled, exhausted into the stables behind the lads who led them. Fresh horses were fetched and hitched to the carriages, which were sponged hastily down to relieve them of the dirt and grime they had accumulated on their journey. The wagons were also rehitched to fresh ponies but these were simply led away. There was no reason for them to be taken up to the palace proper.

The palace was deadly quiet. The only sound was that of the horses' hooves clopping on the stone courtyard floor and the rumble of the carriage wheels. In the royal carriage, the Princess's heartbeat pounded in her ears.

She had always sworn to herself that she would have a happy life. She was doubtful that she would find it here among the cold and the harsh, unsavoury people with their noses in the air and their hands in her pockets. As they turned side on to the staircase which lead to the open palace doors she heard her pulse quicken and swallowed down a nervous breath.

She wanted nothing more than to bathe and sleep, even more than she wanted to return to her own Kingdom, but instead she would have to meet the King with unwashed hair and the same clothes she had been wearing and sleeping in for the last 6 days. She was sure she looked a sight.

Her door opened and one of the guards presented his hand to help her out. She took the proffered hand to steady herself, hopped out and began to ascend the steps to the doors of the palace. They were 10 ft by 10 ft and painted black with the biggest set of iron hinges she had ever seen. A wooden beam roughly one and a half foot deep was stood against the entrance way, evidently to bar the doors against any would-be attackers. The Princess had no time to gawp at it though, her entourage was hurrying along in the direction of the throne room, anxious to arrive and meet the King and apologise profusely for their tardiness.

Inside the throne room stood a small crowd, arranged on either side of a stone throne which sat atop a raised stone dais. A thick grey woollen carpet ran down the steps of the dais to the door, indicating the path the Princess was to tread. A fire roared in the heath to their right and on their left stood 6 windows, completely open to the elements and yet the heat of the fire did not seem to dissipate. Rumour had long existed in the world that Trabia was in possession of magic. The Princess wondered if this was evidence of that.

A man reclined on the throne. He was dressed entirely in pelts, the skin of a black bear draped over his shoulders, it's open-jawed head adorning one, one of the beast's arms laying along the other. The floor-length grey robe he wore beneath it was a mixture of man-made fabric and grey fur. His belt was studded with metal and stones which sparkled in the firelight and from which hung a sword of no mean size. He had shoulder-length dirty blonde hair which was greying at the top and had a thick curly beard which was streaked with white. The hands which rested upon the arms of the throne were rough, but still strong and were decorated with scars and rings alike. This was a King who fought battles with his soldiers, this was not a King who cowered behind a wall while less delicate men fought wars in his name. His brow exhibited a plain gold coronet, set with a single opal.

The Princess dug her deepest bow before the assembly as a voice from her own party introduced her. "Her grace, the Princess Quistis of the Kingdom of Balamb, would greet King Raudûn of the Kingdom of Trabia."

"And King Raudûn would greet Princess Quistis." His reply was a soft rumble, his voice roughed with age and it begged her look up at him. His eyes were like black pits in his face and she found a sudden chill in them. The firelight danced on their surface but quite apart from the warm glow this should have given them they appeared even blacker for the presence of the light. Hard eyes...

"We come to negotiate a peace between the Kingdom of Balamb," the speaker continued as Quistis stared into the eyes of the King. It would be no difficult thing to fall under the control of those eyes, she could tell. "and the Kingdom of Trabia."

"And what does Balamb bring to buy its safety?" Asked the King. He did not raise his voice above a whisper, it was as soft and quiet as a mouse scurrying along the edge of a wall, the tiny feet pitter pattering along the stone, but his words held all the focus and precision and power of the feline predator which stalked said soft-pawed mouse. 'Buy its safety...'

"The Princess would offer herself as a bride to the King, to bridge the gap between our peoples and join our Kingdoms under one house."

King Raudûn barked a short laugh and the smile which lit upon his face was bemused, not unlike the look an adult might give an inexperienced, dull-witted child. "And what house, pray tell, might that be, Your Grace?"

The question was directed at Quistis, knelt where she was. She answered without hesitation. "The Kingdom of Balamb will subjugate itself to the Kingdom of Trabia in return for the cessation of hostilities against the plains folk living along your southern border, your Majesty."

"My house then." He summarised with the same small smile. "And you would be content to be my bride? Or would you seek also to be the Queen of this place?" He raised his arms to either side, indicating the walls of the palace. 'This place' was evidently not 'Trabia' as a whole, merely the court.

"I would be content with whatever role you would grant me." She replied, keeping her tone as carefully soft as he kept his. If the fastest and surest route to securing the safety of her people was to play the 'game' and allow him to win then she would do her best to make it so.

King Raudûn's face was an impenetrable mask as he considered. There was, of course, no guarantee that he would accept what was being offered and if that turned out to be case then she would have to return to her home with her tail between her legs, prostrate herself on the ground before her people and beg their forgiveness at having failed in her task. _If_ she made it home again at all. The wagons of fine things were there to sweeten the deal, naturally, but they alone would not insure her against the bandits roaming the hills or even the perils of the hills themselves. All it would take was a wrong footing or a loose rockslide and she would never make it home anyway.

After a while of consideration, the King got up from his throne and approached the Princess who still knelt on the floor at his feet. He extended a hand and helped her up. "You must be exhausted from your journey, Your Grace," He said to her, curling her arm around his and leading her to a small door behind the throne and opening it to reveal a hallway, lined on both sides with candles burning low. "Allow me to escort you to your quarters. You may bathe and rest, eat and drink what you will and we will talk more in the morning."

"Thank you, your Majesty," She said quietly as he led them away from her entourage and deeper into the palace, "you are very kind."

"It is the least I can do for someone who has travelled so far with such a heavy heart." He said, looking at her closely. She blushed. A heavy heart indeed. She was barely 19 and yet here she was about to be married off to a man who must have been approaching 60. Happiness and love and all good things could not have seemed farther away while she was travelling and now she was here... Her dissatisfaction at her situation in life was apparently evident on her face.

When at last they arrived at her quarters she found that they were a lot like the quarters she had left behind in Balamb. They were richly furnished, but not overly lavish. The sheets were white on the bed and a fire blazed on the hearth. Fresh mountain flowers were arranged in vases around the room and fruit sat in a small bowl on a table by the open window. This too did not appear to affect the temperature in the room in the slightest and she found herself wanting to take off her heavy outer robe, so stifling was the heat.

The King allowed her to wander in unaccompanied and stood at the door. "Does it meet your liking?"

"Yes, thank you," Quistis said honestly, "It reminds me of home."

"Good," He said, stepping to the side as a handful of people arrived with a wooden tub and jugs of hot water, food and wine and trunks full of the Princess's possessions. "I will leave you now, if there is ought you find wanting, inform your guard. He will know how to handle things."

He said it warmly enough, but the threat was clear. 'He will know how to handle things'. That is to say, he would know how to handle _her_. She would not complain about anything.

She nodded and bowed low again until the King had departed and then stood and waited for the servants to finish filling her bath. She dismissed their offers to help her off with her clothes and once the door was shut and locked, she offed her garments and stepped gingerly into the tub. The hot water seemed to sear her chilled flesh and she gasped as she sat down, the water rising up to her chest.

D etermined to be clean again, she scrubbed and soaked and rinsed and scrubbed again. When she was finally happy that she no longer smelt and would once more look every ounce of perfection that was prescribed by a woman of her station, she stepped out of the water and onto the stone floor. Walking naked to the table of food and drink, she picked up a jug of wine, poured herself a cup and sniffed it. She wouldn't put it passed them to poison the victuals. It appeared to be clean though, so she took a small sip and wrinkled her nose. The wine was as bitter as the people then. Shame, she was rather partial to a cup of wine in the evenings and had no doubt she would have to indulge quite a bit before her wedding night.

She helped herself to some fruit pie and returned to her bath, huddling in the water and gazing at the fire light as she ate. Balamb was a nice place, full of meat and grain and silks and fine wines. It was a trade hub really, drawing commerce from the land and the sea. It had access to all sorts of fine things, exotic spices, jewels, music and art. It was nothing like Trabia. Trabia was cold and uncivilised, full of bears and wolves and rocks and nothing much else. The people were as hard as the land they lived on and she was absolutely certain she would not enjoy herself or even 'learn to live with it'.

If her body was under a Trabian King, then her heart was under the Balambian sky...

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A/N: I have part of a second chapter to this which will be posted later, when I have finished it.

Please let me know what you think :)

-Lapin


	2. Caird Du Chapter 2

Caird Du was the quietest city Quistis had ever been in. For weeks after her arrival it remained as though dead, with nothing but the sounds of the colours flapping on the battlements to bring life to it. She had been given free reign of the palace for the most part, the guards made it clear where she was not welcome to tread, but were friendly enough to point her in the right direction if she had lost her way. From what she could tell the palace stretched deep into the mountain, but the oldest and deepest passages had not been used for hundreds of years and had been closed off years ago.

Quistis spent most of her time in the library, which was a large, circular room with a very high ceiling and the only glass roof she had yet to find. The place had every book you could think of, from horticultural encyclopedias to children's nursery rhymes and historical accounts from the country's mysterious past. The accounts were most interesting and told dramatic tales of magical beasts, court intrigue and a long and bloody war. It was almost as if she were reading a story book rather than a historical account, but the accounts were always recorded with a grim tone.

 _Second Era: Year 433: 1st of May._

 _King Doudlas is dead, having succumbed to his wounds and the fever. Preparations for the pyre have been assigned to High Auditor Morcus and preparations for the coronation of Princess Adel have been left to me. The Princess has not been affected by her father's passing and is very busy with her people. They are holed up in the inner sanctum with an important ritual but we are not allowed in. The Princess prefers to commune through messages passed to her door guard and while this puts a significant delay on my plans there is nothing I can do to change things at this time. I only hope that the Princess's plans, whatever they be, will not sacrifice tradition in order to be fulfilled. - Arold Skelte, Kings Scribe._

 _Second Era: Year 433: 4th of May._

 _The Queen has had her first breakthrough as head of state and has secured the allegiance of the Lairds of Bone! It appears that her beauty is eclipsed only by her wisdom and bravery. How lucky we are to have such a Queen. Celebrations are underway and the people dance in the street. To have peace with the Lairds of Bone at last is a respite we have all longed for and was something King Doudlas, Hydelyn rest his soul, could never have given us. I expect the celebrations might last all summer. - Arold Skelte, Queen's Scribe._

 _Second Era: Year 442: 20th of September._

 _The hilltop tribes of our Southern-most border have also bowed their heads at last. Having seen their brethren fall before Queen Adel's might at The Crevasse they had been left with little choice, accept the Will of Adel, or die. My little girl turns eight today. - Arold Skelte, Queen's Scribe._

 _Second Era: Year 442: Winter Solstace._

 _Please forgive my handwriting, I cannot stop shaking to write but I cannot let this go unrecorded. Queen Adel announced that there was to be a grand feast tonight to mark the waking of our united nation to our true calling and purpose. She opened the doors of her sanctum to us for the first time and lead us deep into its depths. There she sacrificed a girl and took her blood and passed it around us and bade us to drink. I can feel myself slipping away from this body, as though being dragged by some ethereal force. The Queen is dabbling in sorcery. I know that I am not long for this world, but if this record is ever found-_

 _Second Era: Year 448: 1st of November._

 _The mysterious disappearances of courtiers has at last begun to stir the suspicions of those left behind. Lady Jeria's hysterics have gathered everyone's attention and where the victims of the past have been of little importance Lady Jeria's family have supplied the court Alchemists with reagents for generations and they are very well thought of. It has long been rumoured that there is some dark device working upon the court. Perhaps it is true. - Frindle Duur, Queen's Scribe._

The records carried on in this fashion for hundreds of years and described the rise and fall of the Necromantic Queen Adel, the break up of the united nation of Trabia, the Blood Wars which followed as the tribes squabbled among themselves to place blame for their blindness, and the years upon years of stagnation afterwards.

To have such an insight into the history of what had previously been so unknown a country gave Quistis a very good grounding. The more she read the more she felt as though she understood the country and its people, their cold demeanour, standoffishness and mighty distrust of anything unknown or foreign. In fact, Quistis had learnt more about Trabia in the 4 weeks since her arrival at the palace than she had learnt about her own country in all the 18 years she had lived in it. She should have been ashamed to admit it, but was enjoying learning about Trabia too much to be ashamed of anything.

No one ever came into the library, for which Quistis was grateful and she often spent whole days without seeing a single soul, for which she was equally grateful.

This all changed, however, one clear morning when the sun rose early in the summer sky and the city of Caird Du was suddenly alive with whispers and rumour. Far below the city a marching column was making its way through the valley like a grey snake weaving its way across the land.

Intending on spending another day in the library reading the accounts of Fergus O'Maur and the discovery of the obsidian mine beneath the old fortress of Kilkrea - where the Necromancer Adel at last met her end in the year 483 - Quistis was surprised to hear music being played through the window. So uncharacteristic was it of the stoic city that Quistis pinched herself.

Suitably satisfied that she was not dreaming, but still unable to determine where the music was coming from, she set out to find it. Her search lead her to one of the windows above the palace entryway, from where she could see that the second and first levels of the city were currently in celebration.

Crowds of onlookers had poured into the streets to greet the returning Trabian cavalry which marched resplendent in uniform ranks along the city streets. They were returning victorious from a campaign in the south east, in rebellious Timber on the edge of Galbadian territory. Wagons and carts followed the parading knights and soldiers, once full of the spoils of war but now laden with the valley's taxes and the less perishable of the stolen booty. Tapestries and urns, fine wines and musical instruments sat among sacks of fruit and vegetables which had been collected in tax from the farmsteads and villages in the valley. Anything which could have been was shared out among the poorer communities of the Shumi Valley, as Quistis now knew it was named.

Smaller parties had been arriving in dribs and drabs to the city throughout the week, bringing with them news of the great victory they had won over the confused Galbadians. Timber had been in turmoil for some time now and the Galbadian military had been mobilized to restore peace to the small town but had found itself woefully ill equipped for the task. Seeing this weakness, Trabia had swept down from their high perch in the mountains and had used the Galbadian disaster to strip the Duchy of Timber of all of its valuables. The metals, Quistis knew from her own country, would be sorted and melted down to provide either armour or currency which could then be used to trade with the other nations. It was a foul game she thought, trading a country's belongings back to them in return for things such as land and livestock, rights of passage and the like... But the world did not turn if there was no trade and if one wanted to get the most out of their trade 'agreements' then one wanted to pay very little of one's own wealth to get what one wanted. If Timber or Galbadia wanted to have things to trade to other nations they would have to buy it back off the Trabians - at an elevated price of course.

The procession of soldiers and horses arrived in the palace courtyard below her window and Quistis watched with some interest as they formed ranks, filling the courtyard from wall to wall but leaving a space three horses wide down the middle. The middle of the cavalry train emerged amid cheers from the palace gatehouse and a heavily armoured figure on a gigantic black horse began his way down the line in the middle of the assembled soldiers. This, Quistis supposed, must be the person in charge of the forces who bristled below her. His steed afforded him a good head of height above his neighbours and they watched him as he passed. His armour was black and appeared from where Quistis stood to be covered in small horns. Two horns protruded from his temples and lent backwards, in the same manner in which his own horse's ears lay flat against its head in an aggressive pose. The eyes and nose of the helmet appeared to be no more than mere slits in the metal, if indeed it was metal at all - the closer he got the more the plates began to remind her of the surrounding rock. The plates themselves were incredibly rough looking and pulsed with an evil looking green glow.

He arrived at the foot of the stairs and dismounted his unfriendly horse who bit at the unfortunate stable boy whose unhappy job it was to fetch the beast away. A smouldering cloak adorned the shoulders of the armoured figure and the smoking edges billowed ash in the playful breeze which seemed to be constant around the city. As he disappeared into the palace there came a knock at the door.

"Come in." Quistis called, turning from the window to face the door with her hands behind her back. She had been in the palace for weeks but still felt very much a stranger. A young woman by the name of Xu Yang opened the door, clad in the armour of the Royal Guard. Xu was a rough individual and somewhat terrifying if Quistis were honest, but she had been assigned to be Quistis' personal guard and thus far the pair had gotten along very well.

"You're wanted in the throne room, Your Grace." Xu said, standing at ease in the doorway. "The King would like a full turn out to greet the war party."

Quistis nodded. She was dressed in a very plain, pale pink gown, tied in at the waist with a white rope belt and had a thin gold chain around her neck. She hoped it would be suitable for court but she really had nothing more lavish to don in its place so it would have to do.

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, it had fallen from the plait she had hastily arranged that morning, and nodded again to Xu, who obligingly led the way to the throne room. They were the last to arrive and slipped in quietly to the immediate right of the stone throne, Quistis standing with her back to Xu's front, Xu's hand resting upon the pommel of her sword. As if on cue the double doors at the far end of the room opened and in strode the armoured figure, flanked by two others; one a very small but well armoured woman and the other a great big bear-hound. Quistis was surprised to see that this too wore armour.

The cloak, Quistis could now see, was not smouldering at all, rather it was so tattered that the ends of it seemed to fizz and bubble as he walked and the breeze left in his wake ruffled the dark ribbons. It was, however, smoking. In fact, the entire man appeared to smoke a dark green. Close up, his armour appeared to have been crafted from molten rock, so dark and foreboding was it, but as he moved beneath the beams of sunlight which streamed in through the windows, the valleys of his breastplate glittered a dull green.

King Rhaudûn greeted him with a smile and a rough hug, giving him a hearty thump on the back. "Ah General Almasy," Raudûn's voice filled the throne room, "You never fail to do us proud! An excellent catch and so unexpected!"

The figure bowed his head in thanks for the praise and the crowd around them clapped heartily and nodded . When the applause had died down, the King leant in and said something to the General that only he could hear. The King was smiling and the General made no response, so King Rhaudûn turned to the room at large.

"Such a bountiful tribute to your country deserves a fitting reward!" He announced, standing with one hand on the General's shoulder, the other held out to the courtiers, who took this as their cue to murmur in agreement. "I happened to recently take delivery of a priceless gift, graciously bestowed upon us by the King of Balamb." Quistis' stomach dropped in horrified anticipation of the King's intentions. "A gift I would give to you; Princess Quistis of the Kingdom of Balamb."

The eyes of the courtiers followed the path of the King's outstretched finger and fell upon Quistis . Nervous, she stepped forward at his request. The armoured goliath watched her sightlessly as she approached and took Rhaudûn's outstretched hand. Silence reigned over the courtroom as the General made his assessment. Whatever the King may have thought, it was was quite evident that the court disagreed with her status as a 'priceless gift' and Quistis very in little doubt that the General would come to a similar conclusion himself. Though, in Balamb, it would still have been considered a great honour to have been offered the hand of the King's daughter.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," The General said after a moment. "Your generosity knows no bounds."

Satisfied with his General's response, King Rhaudûn dropped Quistis' hand into the General's and the court erupted into applause. But no matter now loudly or enthusiastically the courtiers clapped it was clear to all that the only one who was happy about these events was the King himself.

Darkness fell quickly over the Shumi Valley penned in as it was by the Tursus Mountains, but Caird Du itself was as bright as a sun. The city had given itself over entirely to welcoming the army home, paper lanterns had been strung between the houses, bars and taverns served beer and mead in the streets and musicians seemed to have sprung from nowhere. Drunks could be heard singing and laughing from every corner of the city and even the palace itself had been caught up in the merriment. The majority of the court was in the dining hall enjoying a feast. But Quistis was not welcome, even if she had felt some inclination to join in, so she had decided to take her supper in her chambers like always.

Or at least, that had been the plan. She had asked for her supper to be brought to her chambers, but when it came time eat and her dinner had still yet to arrive the Princess got up from her chair and went to the door to find out where it had got to. No sooner had she stepped out of her room however than a maid hailed her from along the corridor.

"Excuse me, Your Grace," The maid dipped her head politely, "The General has requested you dine with him in his chambers."

"The-" Quistis was surprised, he hadn't shown any interest in her at all when they had first met, keeping hold of her hand for the bare minimally required time before letting it fall and failing to utter a single word save to dismiss her from his company. But, she supposed, if he was willing to make the effort now... "Very well," She said, "Take me to him."

The General's chambers, the Prince found, were very poorly lit and smelt heavily of dog, pine wood and linseed oil. They reminded her of the Balamb smithy and she peered about in the darkness looking for an anvil or kiln, but saw nothing.

The General's chambers were further into the castle than the Princess's and the room they were currently stood in had no windows. It was almost completely square; a roaring hearth sat in the middle of the wall on the right - in front of which lounged the bear-hound - and a row of cabinets and crates were stacked against the wall behind the door. In the centre of the roomsat a wide table set for two. The General was already seated and was tucking into the food that was there. He had swapped his armor for more comfortable clothes and wore a pale leather jerkin over a white shirt. Despite the open hearth he had a thick cloak over his shoulders that made him appear to be hunched over.

He glanced up as the Princess entered, but didn't get up. She stood awkwardly in the doorway for a little while, looking between him and the dog - just to make sure it was still happily asleep - before the General bid her to the table with a grunt. He jerked his knife - slick with grease from a roasted duck he had just carved up - towards the only other seat at the table, and Quistis sat.

"So tell me," He began, voice low, "What brings a Princess of Balamb to a mire like Trabia?"

"A diplomatic mission." She offered, watching him stabbing a herby potato from a bowl between them. "My father meant to offer me to the King and join our houses."

The General snorted at that, "But instead you've ended up as a bed-fellow to a minor character." He bit a chunk off the potato. "I'll bet that stings."

Quistis frowned. His tone was so soft that one could almost have missed it, but he was jeering at her, poking a finger into her wound and giving it a cruel wiggle, albeit quietly. "You consider yourself a minor character then?" She asked, taking care to match his tone.

She wasn't about to lose this battle. She knew, of course that the General was not a 'minor' character at all, but was in fact a cornerstone of the power in Trabia. After the General had dismissed her from the throne room earlier that day Quistis had taken hold of Xu and scurried back to her chambers as quickly as possible, confiding in the older woman on the way that she would rather have taken a position wiping the King's bottom than have to admit to her countrymen that she had been palmed off on some armored lout no one had ever heard of. To which Xu had taken it upon herself to educate the Prince on exactly who it was she was to be ward of.

" _The General Almasy." Xu explained, "He was appointed by the King as the army's commander after he faced down a dragon at Tear's Point and survived. The armour was fashioned by High Magus Norg from the beast's scales."_

" _A dragon?!" Quistis' jaw nearly dropped. "But I thought those were just creatures in stories and myths!"_

" _So did we," Xu agreed with a shrug, "But a few years ago we found ourselves with a dragon problem and needed someone to kill it. Dozens attempted to kill it, but Almasy was the only one of those who volunteered who managed to damage it at all." She shook her head a little at the memory. "He dragged its head into the throne room and called it 'evidence'. All we needed was to see one less dragon assaulting the city and that would have been 'evidence' enough for anybody."_

 _Quistis mulled over what she had seen in the throne room and the stories Balamb had heard of the war on Dollet and could very easily believe that this man was capable of bringing down a dragon where others might have failed. 'Relentless' seemed to be the man's middle name._

"Compared to your last catch." The General said. Seeing that Quistis was not eating he picked up a plate of sliced meat and brandished it at her. She shook her head, so he picked up another plate holding fruit and offered this instead.

She shook her head again, "No thank you, I can't even tell what it is in this light." Besides the fire in the hearth the only other light came from a collection of candles on a cabinet by the door.

The General shrugged and popped a tomato in his mouth, "Suit yourself, but if you won't eat with me then you'll starve. You're my woman now so you'll eat at my table or you won't eat at all."

"Why aren't you eating in the dining hall with the rest of the court?" Quistis asked, seeing an opportunity to turn the conversation onto him and away from her spate of bad luck. "They're holding a feast in your honour I would have thought you would want to participate."

"No," He grumbled, reaching across the table to take a spoonful of something and add it to his bowl, "I don't 'mingle' with the masses."

"But the whole city is celebrating your success."

At this he scoffed, "They're celebrating the blood of their kin staining the soil of a foreign land in the name of Trabian superiority. Never having set foot on a battlefield, I don't suppose you would understand why I don't want to attend any feasts being held in honour of death." Then, after a hushed moment added, "And you're not a true born Trabian. None of them are."

"I'm not sure I-"

"It means you wouldn't understand." He cut her off, picking up a large piece of meat in both hands and tearing into it with his teeth. Juice ran down his chin, slickening it in the firelight. Quistis watched the juice and gravy with displeasure. He was clearly a soldier and not a lord, a gentleman wouldn't be using his fingers. A gentleman would have wiped his mouth before now. A napkin sat on the table under the General's elbow, pristine and untouched.

Quistis huffed unhappily and looked about at the dark, indistinguishable dishes on the table. She didn't know how he could stand to eat things he couldn't see. She could barely even see him, let alone her dinner.

Wordlessly she got up from the table and went to the door. The dog raised its massive head from the rug and wuffed at her, but she didn't have any intention of leaving, she just picked up two of the candles from the cabinet by the door and took them to the table. When she returned the General was sat back in his chair, watching her with an inscrutable face. Now she could see him she could tell he was quite handsome, with blonde hair cropped short and a strong jaw and straight nose, and intelligent, piercing green eyes. As the candlelight flickered across them they reminded her of gold coins or a snake's eyes.

Now able to see the food under new light, Quistis helped herself to some salad and some bread and a bowl of thick stew. The General watched her as she ate. The food was good, wholesome and warming. Halfway through her meal the General had poured them both some rich, dark wine into brass goblets. She sipped her drink delicately and by the time she had finished eating the General had turned his face away to watch the fire instead of her. She sighed and buried her nose in her goblet. The King of Balamb, Quistis' father, was a very softly spoken man, but he had been gentle and kind to match it. King Rhaudûn and his General was equally softly spoken, but there was a darkness in their eyes that made them seem dangerous, cunning and secretive. A shiver ran up Quistis' spine.


	3. Caird Du Chapter 3

Caird Du pt 3.

Seifer's experience with women was that they were largely unpleasant creatures, full of malice and spite, always with something to say, some reason why their way was the right way and no one else's was, and always with a chip on their shoulders. Nothing good ever came of fraternizing with women, they either got too sentimental at his company and became hysterical and poisonous when he decided he wanted to leave, screeching about how he had inflicted some personal wound and how they never wanted to see him again despite this concept being the very thing to have elicited the reaction to begin with. Or they were vicious, cunning little things with eyes in the backs of their heads and a lust for his blood. There were a couple of exceptions to this rule, but generally Seifer found his assessment to be accurate.

He had been less than impressed when the King decided to saddle him with the Princess and was waiting with baited breath to discover which of the two evils she would turn out to be, but that wasn't going to stop him from making good use of his gift.

After dinner he had lead the Princess into the bed chamber, where he had lit another fire in the hearth and a few candles and wasted no time in claiming the gift the King had bestowed. Initially the Princess had looked on him with horror as he pulled his jerkin over his head and tossed it onto the back of a nearby chair. But at his urging - "Don't tell me you don't know how to undress yourself…" - had disrobed as bidden and seemed to resign herself to what would happen next. To her credit she had borne it admirably and barely even twitched as her chastity was stolen away forever.

Seifer had to hand it to the girl, in Balamb premarital intercourse was heavily frowned upon and the concept of the Princess engaging in such an act would have called for imprisonment, beheadings and probably worse. She was brave to go through with it.

He held himself over her once it was over and considered. She stared wordlessly back at him. Despite his reservations about women as a whole he had to admit that the Princess was very beautiful, one of the more beautiful women he had seen in a very long time. She had pulled her hair out of its plait before he had pushed her down on the bed and it fanned across the pillows like sheets of gold. Her eyes were as dark as a stormy sea. She was incredibly soft and, to his surprise, hairless. He had heard tell of women in the south pulling out their hair and thought it was a stupid idea. No man truly cared if his woman was hairless or not. Women didn't bother with that sort of thing in Trabia.

He shook his head and sat back, separating them. "I have some business to take care of with the King," He said, slipping off the end of the bed. He pulled his trousers up properly and fastened them back up. The Princess sat up, her limbs curled in front of herself protectively. "You can sleep here. I won't wake you up."

"Ok," She said quietly, watching as he picked his shirt off the back of the chair. Once properly dressed again he made for the door. He didn't spare her another glance.

Almost as soon as he had left Quistis began to cry. Her stomach hurt. Her thighs hurt. Her insides were complaining loudly at their invasion. But more than that… The prospects looked grim. It looked like the General wasn't one for pussy-footing around a subject. She was his woman and he had certainly taken advantage of that. She supposed bitterly that it was his right. She sat on the bed for a bit before going and putting her dress back on. She didn't know how she would be able to sleep tonight, she was too upset.

She wiped at her tears on her sleeve and wondered how she was going to live from now on. It didn't look like the General had any intention of marrying her - if he had then surely he would have waited before taking his marriage rights and he wouldn't have referred to her as his 'woman' - and it didn't look like she would receive any comfort here either. That being said, she wasn't even sure how else it was meant to go.

When she was younger, before she had been sold to Trabia, she had entertained the idea that her first time might be rather romantic. Hell, she had even considered that her first time might have been with someone she loved. If only that foolish girl from years ago had known what it would really be like then maybe she wouldn't have had such high expectations, and wouldn't have been so bitterly disappointed. There had been no romance in what they had just done, no soft kisses, no delicate touches, no worship or even appreciation of her body. It was quick and business-like.

She sat back down on the bed and looked about tearfully. The bed was the only real piece of furniture in the room, made of dark wood and covered with a bear-skin throw. A bedside table and crate sat on one side of the bed and the General's suit of armor stood next to the fireplace. Lying down on the throw Quistis stared at the armor. Hours later the guttering fire and heat pulled her off to sleep.

" _Didn't take you long."_ The bear-hound, Raijin, commented as he and Seifer made their way through the castle to the King's study. The General glowered down at the dog that trotted at his side.

"It wouldn't have taken you long either," He brushed the comment off. "Completely untouched."

" _Mm,_ " Raijin considered, " _One of the privileges of the nobility I suppose._ "

Seifer raised his eyebrows in agreement. They arrived at the King's study and Seifer knocked. It was late, but this meeting had been pre-arranged so Seifer opened the door and let them both in.

"Good Evening General," King Rhaudûn greeted them, "How is the Princess?"

"Beautiful, thank you Your Grace," Seifer nodded. It was an understatement, but the King needed no further details.

"Good," Rhaudûn nodded, indicating that Seifer should take a seat before the fire, which he did. A jug of wine sat on a small table between the couple of chairs that sat in front of the hearth and Seifer obligingly poured a cup for his King and one for himself. Raijin sat by the door yawning. He wasn't fond of wine, so Seifer no longer bothered offering him any.

"Tell me, how goes the search for the Blood Stone?" Rhaudûn asked. The Blood Stone had been one of High Magus Norg's pet projects for years. It was no secret that his appointment at court was merely a stepping stone to the completion of his research and what Norg considered to be a higher position of importance in the world. For years he had been content to squander his considerable income on these fantasy projects of his, but a few years ago had evidently decided that this alone was not enough. Seifer didn't trust Norg as far as he could throw him. Norg had waddled into the throne room one morning and announced that he required the Trabian Army to aid in his search for the Blood Stone, some ancient and mysterious artifact which would supposedly bring great power and wealth to Trabia. Initially the King had been against it. Mobilising the entire Army for one little rock seemed like an exorbitant cost to gamble on such indeterminate returns, but Norg had gone on to explain that as the Stone's current resting place, Dollet, boasted riches of immeasurable quantity it would be in Trabia's interest to 'visit' and any losses which may be incurred in the campaign to locate and retrieve the Stone would be recouped at the expense of Dollet, along with a comfortable profit margin.

Norg had also explained to the King and court that the Blood Stone was the key to divine tranquility and, should Trabia be the one in possession of the Stone, they would be able to live in eternal peace just as the Estharians had long ago. The King had given Norg permission to seek out the Stone, but Seifer was still sceptical at best.

"No sign of it so far," Seifer reported, "The High Magus's hunches are sending us farther and farther afield, but we haven't found any traces of the Stone since Dollet. The caves the scribe described haven't been used in decades; although there were signs of a forge at some point it's long gone now."

"Hmm," Rhaudûn mused, staring into the flames. "How much do you belief in High Magus Norg?"

Seifer snorted, "About as much as I believe in the idea of divine tranquility, or that an entire island could up and disappear at will. I think we're chasing our tails."

The King allowed his General a lot of freedoms. Seifer's want for truth and decisiveness made him a good leader and his men both liked and trusted his judgement. Like all Trabians, Seifer was distrustful of the things which could not be entirely explained, or which didn't have some obvious practical purpose. He had been against searching for the Blood Stone from the start and now that the trail appeared to have gone cold there was a definite note of bitterness in Seifer's report. Milling about in a foreign land searching for something they didn't know what it looked like, or even really what it did, suited the General ill.

"We have heard some worrying rumours before your return to the capitol." The King moved the conversation on. "Galbadia and Balamb are joining their forces. What did you hear of that?"

"Nothing to be concerned over," Seifer said. "Galbadia hasn't been in a real battle in decades and is too big to mobilise its army effectively. Balamb on the other hand might be quicker, but their army is made up of local militias, the number of trained paid soldiers is small and they're busy defending the capitol. Galbadia is old and slow and Balamb is quick but weak. It's the deaf leading the blind."

"I'm surprised at Balamb," Rhaudûn said, cracking a small smile around the rim of his goblet and giving Seifer a probing look. "Not 6 weeks after they strike up a peace treaty with us and they're getting comfortable with the Galbadians. What little regard they must hold for their Princess and her fate."

Seifer cocked an eyebrow. The Princess wasn't in any real danger. "I didn't think they had anything left to trade for a treaty."

"The daughter of some General in Galbadia is wedding the Commander of the King's Guard in Balamb."

"A flimsy alliance."

"But an alliance between positions of power nonetheless." The King refilled his goblet and gestured to Seifer that he should fill his again too. He did. "Like your alliance with the Princess."

The conversation drifted back and forth between domestic politics and the war effort long into the night and by the time Seifer's report had been completed dawn was upon them. Bidding the King goodnight, Seifer woke Raijin up with a soft kick, and let them both out into the corridor.

" _I don't know how you can stand to talk for so long."_ Raijin complained as they plodded along. " _And he's so dull, you know._ " He punctuated the statement with a yawn.

"It's his job to be dull," Seifer replied with a yawn of his own. "He's the King."

" _Glad I'm not a King, you know, sucks the life out of you, you know."_

"Right, wouldn't want old Raijin, life-of-the-party, to have the enthusiasm wrung out of him. Can hardly keep him down as it is!" Seifer teased as they descended a spiral staircase down to the ground level.

" _Hey!"_ Raijin gave an offended bark, " _What's that meant to mean, you know? I have plenty of enthusiasm!"_

"For biting ankles." Seifer grinned at his friend's disgruntlement and then laughed when Raijin threatened to bite his ankles. They crossed the courtyard bickering and Seifer pushed open the door of the guards' barracks.

" _Aren't you going back to sleep with the Princess?"_ Raijin asked, hopping up onto an unoccupied bunk as Seifer settled into one opposite.

"No, she'll be fine for a night. And anyway, I'm willing to bet she'd rather not see me for a while."


	4. Dance Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, This is a long one and is actually still a work in progress, so this will definitely have more chapters in it. Apologies that they are so out of character in this, but I think that their experiences in life would shape who they were and how they behaved. So, without any sorceresses to stir the pot and without any serious heartbreak during their formative years, I think they would be a lot softer in character than they are in the game. That doesn't meant to say they won't still have some bite to them, I just think that they would treat their worlds a little differently.

At least, that's my excuse for if they seem a little strange :P

* * *

Quistis flicked the studio lights on and rolled her neck tiredly. It was the end of a long, stressful day and she wanted to relax. She went to the media tower in the corner and dropped off her stuff, bag and coat, pulling out her phone and plugging it into the aux cable that dangled from the back of the stack of equipment. She selected some music to play and turned the volume up. Soft music began to play through the room and Quistis went to stand in front of the floor to ceiling mirrors than ran along one wall of the studio.

As she warmed up and did some stretching she thought about the day she'd had and all the things that had pissed her off. She was studying for her Master's degree in joint Forensic Science and Pathology at Dollet's Polytechnic University. That was the first of her woes. She was meant to go to the University of Esthar, but had been ill on the day of her entrance exam and hadn't made the grade. What credits she had already accumulated won her a placement in Dollet, but it hadn't been enough to get her to Esthar. Shouldering the disappointment, she threw herself into her degree with all of her energy, but constantly found her classmates to be getting in the way and making life harder.

It was quite clear that a large percentage of the people in the Polytechnic were there for fun and not there to achieve academic brilliance. It irked her and made her resent her placement even more. There were comparatively few people she could tolerate in her class and even they seemed less than enthusiastic about the work.

They had been given a group project to do a week ago and today was the third meeting of their group. It was a disaster so far. There were no girls in her group with her - there was only 3 in the class so the professor had asked them to split among the boys - and the 3 boys she had in her group seemed to want to spend the whole time just pratting about, or staring glumly into the distance. Between them they had contributed nothing at all to the group so far aside from writing their names at the top of the paper.

Her stretching complete, Quistis changed the song and began to dance. She had trained in ballet since she was very young and found it easy to let herself be dragged away by the music. She sometimes wondered if she was taking the wrong degree. She thought about dance so often and mentally choreographed new routines to almost every song she heard and liked. Dance had been her whole life before deciding to study Forensics. This song was one of her favourites and she often used it to unwind after a long studious day in the labs.

She had joined a Dance Society a little while after joining the Polytechnic. She figured it would be a good way to find friends with a common interest and it would be a way to unwind. The larger majority of the members of the Dance Society were majoring in dance, but there were a few like her. One girl, Rinoa, was studying to be a primary school teacher, but was pretty good at jazz, and another girl, Selphie Tilmitt, was into disco dancing and gymnastics. Oddly though she was studying to be a nurse. The three girls got along massively and had a lot of fun. They often hung out after classes and had just put down a deposit for a three bedroom flat for their second year accommodation. Quistis was really looking forward to it. Sort of.

The three girls had decided to go out clubbing a little while ago and there they had seen one of Rinoa's old friends, Seifer Almasy, who Rinoa said was studying IT. Quistis hadn't believed that for a second. The guy was a 6ft 4" wall of muscle. She was sure he was some kind of body builder and not a IT student. The rest of the guys in his class had to be a third of his size! They got talking - although it was difficult over the din - and he'd bought her a few drinks. He seemed nice.

The shadows in the club had played off his features well and he had a smile like a million mega-watt bulb. She wasn't unused to attention, looking the way she did she garnered plenty of attention on a daily basis, but there was something different about getting attention from someone so… Charismatic. Despite being female she didn't often feel like a lady, being as she was so tall and had quite big feet for a woman, not to mention years of ballet and regimented dieting had left her with an oddly pronounced musculature that wasn't generally thought of as being feminine, but his stature and the way he protected her from the throng on the dance floor… He created a bracket around her with his arms at the bar so they could talk without her being jostled by the crowd… It made her feel delicate and demure.

They had moved out to the dance floor after her fourth drink and got lost in the crowd. She couldn't remember at what point she'd lost sight of Rinoa and Selphie, but eventually it was just her and Seifer alone in the crowd.

The kiss had been everything a first kiss should have been. She forgot where she was, how tired she was beginning to feel, how much she hated the music they were playing, she even forgot they were surrounded by people. Seifer was like a rock in a swirling sea and wasn't at all bothered by the boiling mass of people that surrounded them. She remembered that he had smelt heavenly and his shoulders were firm. His thumb brushing over her jaw had been soft, warm. When he asked if she wanted to go somewhere quieter there had been no question about it. He had her hook line and sinker.

They had started seeing each other regularly not long after that, but it was hardly all roses. It turned out that Rinoa and Seifer had dated in their last year of highschool and he had broken up with her when they started university because she was initially meant to be going to the University of Galbadia, but had transferred over to Dollet Polytechnic when her father, the dean, threw a fit about her wasting her efforts on being a primary school teacher and not doing anything more academic. Now they were in the same university Rinoa had obviously taken a shine to Seifer again, although he promised Quistis that he hadn't felt anything for Rinoa since before he'd even split with her.

It made things complicated with Seifer and Rinoa. Quistis couldn't help but feel hopeless about her relationship with Seifer. They weren't officially dating, nothing had been confirmed or even really discussed. She would come out her lab session and run into him at some point on the way home almost every day and they would end up spending the night at his place, or hers. But it wasn't anything official. To anyone else it would look unplanned, as though they didn't really expect to see each other on the way home. But she had come to expect it, to want it. But with Rinoa showing an interest in him again and him…. Not exactly turning Rinoa down…. It was only a matter of time until he ditched Quistis to rekindle his old flame with the other girl. The wrench in Quistis' gut each time she thought about it was enough to make her sick.

These were all things that stressed her out. Her jealousy towards Rinoa, her increasing attraction towards Seifer, how distracting he was, how this was affecting her work ethic, how this might affect her grades if it carried on… How much of a dick she felt to think that, even though she was beginning to feel this way about Seifer, she still had a crush on another of her classmates.

Squall Leonheart was the grumpy guts currently sitting in on their group discussions and saying naught. Despite the fact that Squall had contributed precisely nothing to the group thus far, there was something about his face, the way his hair fell over his eyes, his moody exterior, that got Quistis' attention. When she tried to talk to him he would either make no noise at all and communicate purely through facial expressions and subtle body language, or he would make some short utterance when non-vocal communication wouldn't suffice. Even so, Quistis found herself sitting long after their group sessions has disbanded for the evening, playing moments over in her head, when their eyes met, when he silently acknowledged her contribution as being less stupid than the contributions of the others, etc. She had even managed to get a slight smile out of him earlier that week when she's bitten the head off another group member for their incompetence. She had thought about that smile all night and flat refused to let Seifer anywhere near her.

He hadn't understood and Quistis didn't want to explain. She felt bad enough even developing these feelings for another guy, she'd probably kill herself from shame if she had to explain to Seifer that the reason she didn't want to have sex with him was that she was thinking about the rose soft lips of a certain moody classmate. Seifer had pouted all night and eventually called her frigid and 'Mother Superior' and left.

It was definitely not all roses.

The music was momentarily interrupted while her phone pinged. An SMS message had arrived. Quistis ignored it and continued to dance to a slow ballad. Lots of floor work in this dance.

Her phone pinged again after a few minutes and then pinged again some seconds later. The music was only allowed to play again for a few seconds before the phone began to ring. Quistis waited for it to stop, but when it did it only rang again. She glared at it from her place on the floor. It continued to ring.

Growling at it, she got up and went to pick it up. Seifer's stupid face was flashing across the screen along with a message that read 'two missed calls'. She wondered for a second if she should just turn the rotten thing off for a bit of peace and quiet, but she knew he would just have a go at her for it later. Reluctantly, she hung up on him and sent him a text instead.

'Hello?'

' _Why'd you hang up on me?'_

'I'm busy and can't answer the phone right now.'

' _But you can text.'_

'What do you want?'

' _To know where you are. Didn't see you today and it's getting late.'_

'I'm busy.'

' _Doing?'_

'None of your business.'

' _Some other guy then. Nice. I'll leave you to it.'_

She could feel tears of frustration prickling her eyes. 'I'm not the sort of person to sleep around.'

' _Then tell me what you're doing.'_

'Why do you want to know?'

' _Because I haven't seen you today and I want to know.'_

'I'm working.' She lied. She really didn't fancy his involvement right now and didn't want him to know she was in the dance studio. He'd probably show up at the door and try to take her home.

' _It's 11:00! WTF are you doing working this late!?'_

It wasn't quite eleven, but it was nearly. She hadn't really noticed. She had been so focused on losing herself in the music that she hadn't realised how much time had passed. It was barely 9 when she let herself in.

'Group project.'

' _So you ARE with other guys…'_

'No, they left. I'm on my own.'

' _How long are you going to work for?'_

'I think I'm done.' She wrote. She couldn't stay up much longer, she had a lecture at 9am tomorrow, so she would have to be good and go to bed at a reasonable time. With this in mind she gathered together her things and made ready to go home. Her phone pinged a few times in her pocket while she turned everything off. She fished it out of her pocket and read as she descended the stairs to the gym lobby.

' _Do you want me to come get you?_

' _Can stay at mine tonight, my flatmate is out chasing skirts._

' _I'll take you out for breakfast tomorrow?'_

She shook her head. He was offering to take her out for breakfast? What kind of a fairytale world did he live in that he went out for breakfast…? What was wrong with cereal?

'No it's fine, I want to sleep in my own bed tonight.'

' _Yours tonight then. Breakfast tomorrow?'_

She hated this. 'I meant I'd like to be alone in my bed.'

It was a good 2 minutes before he replied. ' _Why?'_

Gods she was a bitch. Not that she thought she had the power to really break his heart, but she didn't want to have to explain this to him. Why couldn't he just understand that she wanted to be alone tonight? She was tired, they'd spent every night together for the past three and a half months, she hadn't slept on her own in her own bed for 90% of that time, she was confused about how she felt about him, her life seemed to be spiralling off on its own course and she wanted a break. She wanted a break and a chance to gain some control back over her own life.

'I just need some time on my own.'

' _Why though?'_

'Because I do.'

Another few minutes until his reply. ' _Can I come round?'_

She could have thrown her phone on the pavement in frustration, but settled for a hiss and some gesticulation instead. 'No,' she wrote, wondering what it was about 'I need some space, I'm sorry' that he didn't understand.

' _How long are you going to want this 'space' for?'_

She didn't know. She thought about it for a bit as she walked, but eventually just stuffed her phone in her pocket because she didn't know what to say. The honest answer was that she didn't actually want any space at all. She wanted to be with him all the time. She thought about him in her classes, while she danced, showered, slept. She liked him a lot and was going a little ga-ga over the whole thing. But she also liked Squall. She didn't like him in the way she liked Seifer. Seifer was like an all consuming fire and Squall was like… an itch that had to be scratched. Like a scab that needed to come off. She wanted to know what he was actually like, if he could really talk, if he would open up if she could get him alone. He smelt nice too and she wanted to bury her face in the furry hood of his ever-present puffer-jacket and fall asleep in that scent. She wanted to know if those rosy lips really where as soft as they looked.

Seifer had stubble, so he was almost never soft. He had kissed her clean-shaven once and it was like kissing another person entirely. She wasn't sure she liked it and had pulled a face at him. He had shrugged and given her a half smile and said it was necessary today because he was going to a job interview, but he preferred the beard as well. Squall didn't look like he could grow any facial hair at all. He was so baby faced, even with the scowl.

If Quistis was going with the intelligent and sensible answer then she wanted this 'space' until she graduated and made something of her life. She was already saddled with the prospects of a second-rate degree from a polytechnic and not a university - she didn't need a distraction like 'love' dragging her down as well. If the polytechnic didn't drown her chances of landing a killer career then a relationship with Seifer would. But that would mean breaking up with him properly. She had already gathered from his past relationship with Rinoa that he wouldn't wait around until Quistis was done with her degree. He'd be following the next long legged blonde that marched across his path, probably before Quistis' number had even been deleted from his phone. He was good looking and smart and could afford to do things like that. The thought of being so easily replaced made Quistis' eyes water.s

She fished about in her bag as she came up to the steps to her door and heard some footsteps behind her. She turned around in disbelief at the sound - they could only belong to one person - and saw Seifer coming up the steps towards her.

"I thought I told you you couldn't come round" What are you doing here?" She asked, tone accusatory.

"We need to talk." He replied.

"No, we don't need to talk." She shook her head, annoyed. "You need to go away."

"Don't be like that."

"Like what? I said I needed some time and wanted to be alone tonight! I said you couldn't come round but here you are! What should I not 'be like'?"

She put a hand on his chest to stop him as he reached the step below hers. He put his hand over hers so she took her hand back. "Quistis, please, let's just talk." He asked, no, pleaded.

She shook her head again and felt tears pricking at her eyes.

"Please?" He repeated. She shook her head and turned her back on him, facing the door. He kept pleading as she searched for her keys and battled with the door. "I just want to talk. I haven't seen you all day, you won't tell me what you're up to, now you 'want space' and you're 'sorry' and you don't even want to see me at all and tell me to 'go away'. It sounds like you're breaking up with me."

Her jaw dropped open and she stood there stupidly, mouth agape for a moment, before she said quickly, "I am."

"You are." He repeated, half a question.

"Yes." She confirmed, tone growing involuntarily haughty as her natural defense mechanisms kicked in. Pretend like she was above it all and maybe she actually would be. But her tongue ran along her teeth underneath her lips - another involuntary reaction and an indication that she might burst into tears at any moment.

She turned to face him and he looked confused and suspicious, as though expecting this to be a joke. "Why?"

"Because-" The first prickle of tears started in her eyes and she looked up quickly, blinking them back. She started again with a deep breath. "Because I need to be able to focus on my degree and this-" She signalled between the two of them "-is bringing me down."

"Bringing you-?!" He repeated, altogether hurt, shocked and offended.

"It's making me miserable Seifer," She whined, correcting herself. "I can't concentrate on anything. I get distracted easily. I don't even _want_ to work! I just want to spend all my time with you! And I will not get a degree that way. I _have_ to be able to concentrate on my work… And I can't right now…" She finished, lamely.

He was quiet for a few moments, just looking at her, and she felt a few tears escape. She had thought in the studio that she had it covered. She just needed to take some time, have some space, be away from him for a bit, centre herself and work hard and then maybe she could still be with him some of the time. How she had gone from 'need a little space' to 'I'm breaking up with you' she had no idea. The destructive feeling she had boiling in her blood made her want to vomit.

Just as she was about to say something else, he licked his lips and dug his hands into his pockets, shifting from one foot to the other. "So your best idea was to break up with me."

Quistis sucked in a dramatic breath and buried her face in her hands. "No!" She whined, sucking in another breath and feeling the tears beginning to pour in earnest, "My best idea was to take a break! Have some space! Spend a night on my own away from you, but you-!" She threw her hands down by her sides, "You wouldn't let me! I _need_ some space, Seifer! I can't keep going on like this!"

"Like what?!" He cried, raising his voice at last, "Like _what_?!"

"Like _this_!"

"What is 'this'?!"

"With you!" Quistis shouted at him, tears pouring and chest heaving, "With you! And Rinoa! And trying to work and not being able to! I can't keep wasting my life like this! I have to make this worth something!"

"Make _what_ worth something?!"

"My _degree! Me!_ " She shouted, pointed a finger into her own chest to emphasise what she was saying, the words tumbling out at speed as emotion overtook her. " _I_ want to be worth something! _I_ want to be proud of myself! I can't keep trying to juggle my work and you, _and_ make nice with your ex-girlfriend all at the same time because it's _not_ working and I'm _not_ going to _let myself_ fail just because of _you_! I need some space! I need you to go away! I need to just get on with this and I need-!" She sucked in a rattling breath, at the end of her spiel, "I need you to just _accept_ that and not try to guilt trip me, or change my mind. I won't forgive you if you do and I won't forgive myself if I let you…"

Seifer heaved a sigh and looked at her, but appeared to be lost for words. After all, what could he possibly say after that? Quistis stood nervously, trying to think of something else to say, but words were not so easy to come by and his expression said he didn't want or need to hear any more. He looked at the wall next to her head, then down at the floor, his jaw muscles clenching and releasing as he thought about what she'd said.

"Fine." He said and without sparing her another glance, turned and left down the steps the way he'd came and disappeared off down the street.

Quistis decided to put herself to bed without any supper that night. There was no point in entertaining the idea of studying, she felt upset and physically sick and laid in her bed until she'd cried herself to exhaustion and sleep stole her away.

* * *

Seifer stomped off down the road, hands in his pockets, fingering a little velveteen box he'd bought only the day before, thinking bitterly about it and feeling like a complete fool. He played over what had happened in his mind - the look on her face when he'd showed up without invitation, how she'd told him to leave and said she didn't want him around - and swore loudly. Why was she breaking up with him? Why was she doing this to him? Did she want to hurt his feelings? She said he was bringing her down and making her miserable! He'd thought that she was happy with him - she certainly seemed happy - and yes she had voiced concerns over her studies, but he didn't see how it was his fault if her grades dropped. And she was an A grade student, she could suffer to lose a few points without blaming it all on him, surely? And here he was a blind fool going about his day thinking everything was fine, going out of his way to go see her, try and talk to her… He swore again and jogged up the steps to the bridge over the river. He was angry, and humiliated. What an idiot he was. She didn't even let him talk...

Pissed, he took the box out of his pocket and drew back to throw it as hard as he could into the river that churned darkly down below, gritting his teeth in a snarl.

But he stopped.

She cried. She probably couldn't even really see him through all the tears. He brought the box back in front of him and wiped a thumb over the gold letters embossed over the top. She wouldn't have been so upset if she really did hate him and want rid of him. He knew she could be ruthless and unfeeling, had seen her turn men away and admonish classmates alike without so much as a blink of the eye. She had a cool head about her, always so controlled. She didn't get upset, she didn't burst into tears at the drop of a hat. But she wasn't one to manipulate either.

In the relatively short time they had been together he had commented to her more than once that she was too honest and passionate for her own good. She worked hard for the things she wanted, told things how they were, accepted whatever hardship came her way as though she deserved it and always had a chip on her shoulder about not feeling good enough. ...Not feeling like she was worth anything.

He shook his head, remembering how she'd scoffed and brushed him off when he said she was the prettiest girl on the campus, how she'd been moody all day when she got an assignment back marked 98/100. " _99_ ," She had said, " _I could live with, but 98? It's like I'm not quite 'almost' there._ " There was a chip alright.

He knew that ending up in Dollet and not Esthar was a heavy blow to her, but she was determined to make the most of it. He supposed, now he thought about it, that he understood what she was talking about now when she said their relationship was 'bringing her down'. She didn't really mean to break up with him… He knew that somehow. She had just decided that she cared too much about her degree to jeopardise her success by distracting herself with him. The thought helped to cool his fire and a feeling of melancholy arose in its place. He put the box safely back in his pocket with a heavy sigh. He still cared about her, angry and hurt though he was.

* * *

26, Quistis decided, was a rough old age. She shifted her weight to her other foot and fingered the base of her glass with one hand, tapping her other hand against the bar as she thought about her week and whether retirement at this age should be envied or frowned upon. It was a Friday night, thank Hyne, so she could lay in tomorrow for a little while, but the long week had taken its toll already and all she really wanted was to be in bed. Urgh, she felt so old already! Getting up at the crack of dawn, spending all day in the lab working on cadavers, staying late or working overtime, going to bed at not even 9 o'clock… This is what old people did, not people in their 20s.

She looked at her watch: 20:27, made a noise of disgust and looked around the bar. Where was Rinoa anyway? They were meant to meet 27 minutes ago but the brunette was nowhere to be seen. This was the first time they would have seen each other since Rinoa and Squall's wedding and it had been the other girl's idea. She had apparently been too busy after her honeymoon that this was the first chance she had to meet up with her old mate. But here she couldn't even be bothered to put in the effort to show up on time.

Turning her attention back to her drink - a grasshopper - Quistis took a weary sip. Rinoa was like a dull ache these days. Quistis had given up feeling jealous or miserable about Rinoa a few years ago when she had announced her engagement to Squall, Quistis' long-time crush. At that time it had been like the bursting of a great balloon and all the stress and sour-grapes Quistis had felt towards the other girl - upon whom Lady Luck appeared to dote most heavily - rushed out in a cackle of hysterical laughter. After suffering through years of disappointed hopes and predictable blow after predictable blow, the fact that they were now sealing the deal by getting married made the whole thing seem rather funny. What point was there in getting upset about it now? Quistis had wasted so much of her life in pining after things the universe decided, apparently on a whim, to hand over on silver platter to someone who put no work into their acquisition or even seemed to deserve them at all, that it was all beginning to feel like it might have been personal. Quistis had offered Rinoa and Squall her wholehearted congratulations and sworn - being that they had both made her so desperately unhappy on more than one occasion - that she wouldn't waste any more of her time on feeling disappointed by either of them. So, that being said, Rinoa standing Quistis up when it had been Rinoa's idea to meet up in the first place was didn't hurt one single bit because it was all to be expected.

Checking her watch again and casting a final glance around the room with the intention of finishing up her drink and beating a hasty retreat, Quistis was met with a sight _so_ unexpected that she had to do a double-take and check herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

* * *

Seifer froze. He had been staring at her since she'd walked in, wondering if it could possibly be true and the beautiful but tired looking blonde bombshell on the other side of the bar, sipping her drink slowly and checking her watch, could really be who he thought it was. She was dressed in a dark grey blazer and white blouse, had her hair up in a clip and had a pair of reading glasses poking out of the top pocket of her blazer alongside a fancy-looking silver pen. The way she was checking her watch and looking around meant she was waiting for someone, but he had checked and there were no rings on her fingers. She was, at least, unmarried then…

The party he was with were laughing loudly, oblivious to the fact that Seifer wasn't engaging in the conversation anymore, but eventually Seifer had run out of his drink and needed to extricate himself from their group to fetch more. They had tried to make him buy a round, but he refused, disentangling himself from the female arms that tried to wrap around him as he left.

He liked going out with the guys, generally speaking they drank a lot of beer, played a lot of pool, and usually went home with some pretty little thing, drunk and eager to show how dirty they could be. But Seifer wasn't interested in that tonight. Ho no. He had his sights set on a completely different kind of evening now and he moved over to the bar to get a drink and a better look.

* * *

Quistis sucked in a breath. She hadn't seen Seifer in almost 8 years but there he was, all of a sudden, standing at the bar and ordering a drink. It was black and had some syrupy stuff go into it. She couldn't stop herself from staring at him until it was too late and he looked up as his drink landed on the bar. Their eyes met.

* * *

She looked terrified. Well, not terrified. Startled. Shocked. He supposed he would be too if someone he used to know had left the country without a word and had then suddenly popped back up again not 10 foot from his face, 8 years later. Their eyes met only for a moment, but Seifer knew that she recognised him - she looked away instantly and fidgetted more determinedly with her glass, obviously unsure of what she should do.

Making a decision, Seifer picked up his drink and went to move around to where she was, say hello and break the ice, but she was already finishing up her drink and shouldering her handbag. A group of girls passed between them as Quistis went for the door and Seifer had to fight his way through them.

* * *

Why was he here? Did he recognise her? Did he see her looking at him? Quistis shook her head and hurried a little quicker to the door, battling against the stream of people who were filing into the bar as the evening settled in. Anxious and panicky, she had almost made it to the exit when a shadow blocked her path and she had to jump back. She looked up at Seifer stupidly with a started look on her face.

"Hi," He said, eyes dark in the dim lighting, searching her face, "Quistis?"

"H-hello," She agreed. Awkward.

"Uh," He seemed to struggle for words for a moment and she almost smiled. Evidently she wasn't the only one feeling out of sorts at the other's presence. "How have you been?"

"Good," She nodded, "Busy." It was the only thing that came to mind.

He gave her a small smile and asked "Too busy for me to buy you a drink?"

Buy her a… drink? At her hesitation he elaborated, "I just saw you standing and… Thought I would come over and say 'hi', see how you are… I just wanted to catch up, nothing sinister, I promise."

She quirked an eyebrow at his wording. "Sinister? Seifer, that's no way to offer a lady a drink."

He quirked his own eyebrow at the unbidden smile that was forming on her lips. For some reason his words had tickled her. She gave in and nodded, "Alright one drink. But," She held up a finger when he flashed a grin, "I'll be watching you very carefully, so nothing 'sinister', please." He held up his free hand, the picture of innocence and she allowed him to usher her over to the bar.

"So," He said when she had another grasshopper in her hand, "What are you doing in a bar like this by yourself on a Friday night?"

"Oh, I was waiting for Rinoa to show up," Quistis said, settling herself down on a bar stool that was just vacated moments ago. She crossed her leg over her knee. Seifer took a step closer and the toe of her shoe bumped into his leg. "She was supposed to be here at eight but she hasn't turned up yet."

"What? Rinoa being late? That's not like her." Seifer joked, then said, "I'm surprised you guys are still friends after all this time."

"Well," Quistis raised an eyebrow, "It's more like I don't have any time to make friends with anyone else."

"Yeah you did say you were busy. So what are you up to these days?"

"I'm a forensic pathologist at the Westgate Mortuary," She explained.

He whistled his admiration, "Wow, congratulations, that's pretty impressive. Wasn't that where you were aiming for in University?"

She nodded and sipped her drink. She told him about how she had gotten a job in a mortuary in a local Dollet hospital carrying out postmortems on the bodies of patients who had died in suspicious circumstances, mostly accident victims who didn't survive their injuries, but a couple of whom proved to be the result of arsenic poisonings and not the accidents they had recently suffered. These had helped to expose a serial murderer masquerading as one of the nurses and this discovery meant a number of bodies of patients who had died previously - but for whom postmortems had not been deemed necessary as there had been no suspicious circumstances - had to be exhumed and what had started off as two arsenic poisonings and a terrible day for a small provincial hospital turned into one of the worst crimes in Dollet's recorded history with over 30 falling victim to the murderer, Adel Montenue, over a 4 year period. Being the pathologist who discovered the murders, Quistis had found this to be a huge boost to her career and had used this, and her impeccable first degree qualification from the University, to fight her way into increasingly more prestigious companies and had eventually landed her dream job at the Westgate Mortuary in the centre of Esthar.

She told him about how she had started a beginner's ballet class on the weekends, which she taught from her studio apartment in the centre of Esthar. She told him about how Selphie had been offered a placement in Timber in Galbadia and now had two little girls by one of the lumber workers she had met out there, Irvine Kinneas, and how they were meant to be getting married at some point but never seemed to have the time or money - though they seemed happy enough about it either way. She told him briefly about how Rinoa and Squall had recently gotten married and had just been on their honeymoon to the Costa Del Sol and how Rinoa wouldn't shut up about it and it was driving Quistis insane.

He talked about himself very little, explaining that he worked for an overseas shipping company and hadn't actually gotten his degree because he dropped out of University to work, but didn't elaborate any further. Instead he was keen to know more about her, how the rest of her degree had gone - she'd come out with a First, as expected - what it was like spending all day in a cold stone room full of dead bodies - hence the ballet lessons for live, breathing children on the weekends - and what other weird or notable bodies she had had over the years. There were a few, the woman whose face had been blown off in a gas explosion, the man who had died of pneumonomicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis but who it had been discovered, on being undressed and prepared for the autopsy, had two knobs. However, most of the cases were murder cases so she couldn't tell him very much at all.

At some point in their talk it had surfaced that she hadn't eaten any supper as it had been the plan to eat with Rinoa when she arrived, so they moved venue and Seifer bought her dinner at an italian restaurant.

It was so pleasant to talk to Seifer, who was and always had been a very good listener, that it almost felt like they hadn't just spent 8 years apart. Quistis was sure she had changed a lot, but he didn't seem to have changed at all. He was just as handsome, although his hair was cut a lot shorter, and he was just as fixated on her as he had been all those years ago.

That was something notable about Seifer - he paid extreme attention to her when she was talking and didn't look away, or start fiddling with his phone, the table cloth, or anything else while they were having a conversation. He always looked straight at her with those golden-green eyes. When she was 18 she had found it to be disarming, but flattering that he would pay her so much attention. By now it was like water to a flower in the desert.

Quistis had dated a few men in the 8 years since their parting, but they had all been workaholics or self-absorbed and only really in it for her beauty or to coast on the bow-wave of her success. They didn't pay attention, didn't listen to her at all, and didn't seem to have any interest in what she liked, disliked, wanted or didn't want. Sure, they showered her with flowers and chocolates whisked her off for a - disastrous - holiday in a 5 star resort and proclaimed that they loved her, but that was never what she wanted. Having Seifer's attention now made her realise just how starved of attention she really was.

She complained about this a little to Seifer when he brought up the topic of partners. "Not for me, thank you," She said as they walked along the pavement up to where Quistis' apartment stood. "Nope, I am finished with living like a show-pony and begging for a crust. I've spent too much of my time living that life already."

Seifer gave Quistis a mock frown, "I don't think I treated you like a show-pony." He said, feigning hurt.

She blushed at his reference to their failed relationship, however jovially it might have been done. "No, you're right I suppose. I should probably excuse you from that list."

Seifer scratched at his stubble as he thought, mentioning almost casually, "I think you were probably the last person I actually wanted to be around… For longer than a night anyway."

"Oh charming." Quistis scoffed, laughing.

"Hey. we've all got to be honest about our vices at some point." He shrugged.

"And yours is promiscuity."

"Guilty as charged."

She smiled as they came up to her apartment building and stopped on the pavement outside. "So," Quistis said turning on the bottom step to the doors and facing Seifer, who was still stood on the street. "This is my stop."

He nodded and they looked at each other in silence for a minute before both went to speak at the same time: "Can I get your number?" "Do you want to come up?" "Sure." "Sure!"

Quistis blushed, Seifer smiled at her. She gestured at the door over her shoulder and repeated, "Do you want to come in?"

He grinned and nodded. Yes. Smiling hesitantly at him, Quistis lead the way up the steps and into the foyer. She had managed to get an apartment in what was known locally as the 'Lux. It was everything a deluxe apartment building should have been. The foyer was large and mostly empty. The black marble floor ran into a marble front desk at the back of the room, vacant, and black and gold marble pillars ran down the sides of the room. Two large crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and reflected off the floor. A couple of plush black leather sofas sat against one wall of the foyer and two elevators were situated on the other.

Quistis' high heels clicked on the floor as she lead them over to the elevators. She looked calm on the outside, but internally she was a nervous wreck. What was she doing?! Why had she invited him upstairs!? What was she thinking? It was damn near midnight and she had a ballet lesson to teach at 9 the next morning! She couldn't spend all night talking to Seifer about everything and nothing, she had to get to bed, go to sleep, get her 8 hours in and then be up, bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to start the day! And… What if he interpreted something in her invitation? Well it wouldn't be any huge loss if he did. He was very good looking and it had been a while since she'd had a good lay, but… She wasn't desperate, and she didn't shag on first dates. Not that that rule really applied to him anymore anyway but... Was dinner and a drink in a bar a date? She supposed in most cases it probably would be, but there had been nothing in the evening thus far to imply that this had been a date. Indeed, it hadn't even been planned, they just bumped into each other again after 8 years and suddenly got to having drinks together and him buying her dinner… And asking for her number… And her inviting him into her apartment after dark…

Her mind was a-buzz by the time they reached her floor and she stepped out of the elevator feeling a lot jumpier than she had been when they went in. Seifer, for his part, didn't seem at all bothered by being invited in or what that could mean.

Quistis unlocked the door to her apartment and allowed Seifer to step through first. She shut the door behind them and flicked on the lights.

 _Zzzin-plink!_

Fuck. Quistis let out a heavy sigh and heard Seifer chuckle in the darkness on her right. "Hmm," He said, "I think your lights are gone."

"Yes, thank you for that, Seifer." She replied with a light nervous laugh. Nervous laugh, she'd been doing a lot of that all evening. She hoped he thought she was just a happy soul and not totally crazy.

"Well," She said, addressing the shadow-y blob that must have been Seifer, "I was going to offer you a cup of coffee, but I'm not sure how much luck I'd have making you one in the dark."

"Or how much luck I'd have telling the sugar from the salt." He agreed.

She grinned. There was some light coming in from her living room, a faint glow from the streetlamps far below the window. "I hope you're not averse to talking in the dark."

He should his head and seemed to shrug and said nonchalantly, "I could think of a lot more things I'd rather be doing in the dark."

Something about his voice as he said it, deep and dark, made her breath catch in her throat. "Seifer…"

"I'm sorry." He muttered with a 'tsk', stuffing his hands into his pockets, "It's just… Seeing you again after all this time is… It's really good."

She gave him a glum look in the darkness. "It's really good to see you too, Seifer." She agreed. There was a little knot starting to form in her chest. It _was_ really good to see him. But somehow seeing him again like this and enjoying herself like this… It just made more obvious the fact that they had lost a lot over the years. She had changed, moved on, and he had too by the sounds of things. There wasn't ever really a chance for them and there never really would be now.

They spoke together again: "You know, we could-" "I should probably get-" "Ok." "Ok."

Cursing herself internally, Quistis licked her lips. She wanted him to stay a while longer, but how to put this? "You could, um, stay, if you-"

"Quistis."

Her heart jumped in her chest, ready to be crushed. She heard him sigh and then, quietly… "May I kiss you?"

There was a moment when she nodded, then remembered it was dark and he couldn't see her, before she whispered her consent and his fingers touched her neck and jaw and drew her in.

It was their first kiss all over again. Soft and slow, but steal-your-breath-away nonetheless. Quistis had never been so glad not to see Rinoa in her entire life.

* * *

Euphoric. Enraptured. Deliriously happy. Utterly exhausted and coming home. Seifer was in another world, with his lips against Quistis' skin again for the first time in 8 years. She made some small sound against his lips that sounded wanton and a lot like satisfaction. The soft, familiar scent of clementines mixed with the acrid smell of the city, engine fumes and cigarette smoke and he was hit with a flash from the past. The smell of her shampoo was a scent that he had loved and still thought of occasionally. Even now the smell of any citrus fruit had her on his mind quick as a flash and 8 years after the event he still couldn't shake her from his skin. Gods he had missed her.

He buried a hand in her hair, digging his fingers under the clip and deepened the kiss. She made a noise of complaint when the clip was removed and discarded somewhere on the floor, but she didn't stop him. Her fingers clinging tight to the lapels of his jacket urged him forward.

* * *

Quistis could hardly breathe, her heart felt like it was in her throat. One hand in her hair, the other behind her back, he held her firmly but gently to him and his mouth on hers was hot. He used to have this effect on her a lot and it made her head spin, it was all she could do to hold on lest her legs gave way beneath her.

Three and a half months was hardly a relationship, but she hadn't felt about anyone since in the same way she felt about Seifer. The way he was kissing her now, she hoped to Hyne above he felt the same way about her as she did about him. Oh why did she have to ruin it all those years ago? He shed his jacket and then helped her out of hers and they fell in a heap on the floor. His lips migrated to her throat and he sucked at a spot just below her ear that made her shiver. She let out a shaky breath and held on to his shoulders.

* * *

She was like putty in his hands, turning her head obligingly to give him access to the white column of her throat, taking little shuddering breaths when he kissed a favoured spot. So responsive. Bending to fit his fingers around her thighs, just under the curve of her arse, he picked her up and braced her against the wall. She locked her ankles at his back and sought out his mouth again.

Seifer leant in to her, grunting as their pelvises met. This was getting heavy, heavier than he had dared to really hope for (certainly more than he had even considered when he saw her back at the bar) but that was creating problems of its own, and Quistis was not helping the matter. She had snaked her arms around his shoulders and her legs shifted restlessly around his waist, the muscles in her inner thighs moving against his sides.

This wasn't just a kiss anymore and if she didn't stop him soon he was sure there wouldn't be any going back. He drew away from her for a breath and the look she was giving him… He was ready to rip all of her clothes off right then and there, but…

"Q," The nickname fell easily off his tongue, feeling dusty in its release, "I-"

"Shh," She hushed him, claiming his mouth again and beginning on the buttons on her shirt. Well he supposed that answered that question. She wasn't about to stop him any time soon. Egged on with this knowledge he tugged her blouse out of where it had been tucked into her skirt and - at her behest - tore it open. Buttons tinkled to the floor all round them as Seifer bent his neck to kiss the newly bared skin of Quistis' chest. She had put on weight since the last time they had been together and felt softer in his hands. He had noticed back at the bar how nicely she filled her clothes, but the proof of the benefits of those added pounds was right here, under his fingers, under his lips and tongue.

Her short nails scratched gently over his scalp and she breathed his name into the heavy air. He was going to need to sit down soon or they would both fall down. The straining between his legs was getting to be more and more uncomfortable by the second. He had missed her voice.

"Where's your room?" He asked, gripping a thigh so he could carry her better.

"Across the living room." She said, pointing with one hand through the door on her left. He nodded and pushed off from the wall, turning his attention back to her throat as he walked so he had a better view of where he was going. The door to her bedroom was a jar already and they pushed through it and practically fell into the bed which was sat immediately behind it.

She laughed at his surprise and apologised for the room being small, but he shook his head, he didn't care, he only had one thing on his mind now. They divested themselves of the rest of their clothes and wasted no more time in getting to the main event.

Seifer groaned as he was encapsulated by warmth. Holy shit, she was so tight. She gasped as he shifted, feather light noises, she sighed his name… They somehow got themselves into a rhythm and Seifer let his forehead rest on hers. It wasn't long however until their rhythm started to suffer and they fell apart. She mewed something into his ear and he bit back on a groan of pleasure, kissing at the sweaty crook of her neck as he came.

* * *

 _Bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee-bee!_

Noooooo, Quistis thought, cracking open an eye to glower at the alarm clock sat chirping away on her bedside table. 07:30. Shhhhhhh!

The arms that were wound around her tightened and the warm figure at her back scrubbed his face into the pillows unhappily. "Urgh," He grumbled, voice gravelly from sleep, "What is that? A bomb?"

"No," She grumbled back, "It's my alarm clock."

"Why have you got an alarm? It's saturday."

"I have a ballet lesson at 9, remember?"

"Urgh, yeah…"

Quistis wriggled free of him for a moment, turned the alarm clock off, then snuggled back down into the warmth of her bed, facing her companion. Seifer Almasy. In her bed again. He had his eyes shut and his face half buried in her pillows, his golden tanned skin looking lovely against her white bedding even with the scar across his face.

"Where did you get your scar, by the way? I don't think I asked you last night."

"Hmm?"

"The scar on your face," She repeated, "Where did you get it?"

He blinked at her, seeming to wake up a little and said "I was mucking about with a sheath-knife in the jungle in Wutai and slipped on a root and fell on it."

She frowned. What? "You fell on a knife, with your face?"

He laughed when she said that and buried his face in the pillow again before stretching and groaning. He flipped onto his back and nodded. "Yeah, I know it sounds stupid but that's what happened. We were cutting a path through the jungle, moving a load of crates up to some village in the backwoods of nowhere and there was this really big root, but it just looked like a rock so I tried to kick it out of the way. It didn't move though so I just ended up falling over it and managed to get my knife stuck in my face."

Quistis pulled a face and shook her head. "Nasty."

"Yeah," He agreed, "Not much by way of medical help out there either so it was a bit touch and go for a while."

"So what did you do?"

"Bandaged it up and got on with things. Ended up with a hell of a high fever and some local witch doctor feeding me crushed bugs for a week, but what else can you do? At least I didn't die."

Quistis bit her lip to try and hide a laugh - near death experiences were no laughing matter - but she couldn't help herself. Seifer never seemed to believe in the power of modern medicine, or any kind or medical help, so she could only imagine the fuss he would have made at being forced to endure the local equivalent. "I'm glad you didn't die."

"Me too, sweetheart, me too."

Quistis sighed and rest her chin on his chest. He had a lot more muscle than he had when they were younger. It was nice, firm. "I have to get up."

He pulled a face and gave a sigh of his own, reluctant. "Yeah, I should probably get going too, let you get on with things."

She nodded and got up, going into the bathroom next to her room and starting up the shower. By the time she was done Seifer was already fully dressed and sat on the end of the bed (which he had made) waiting for her. He stood up when she entered, clad in a towel and sopping wet.

"Uh, I'm going to go, but can I get your number?" He asked, "If you want to meet up again, that is."

'If'? Oh there was no question about it - yes she wanted to meet up again! That was the best night of her life (well, best night if the year so far at least)! She was definitely up for more of that, thank you very much.

"Sure," She said, smiling prettily at him, "Is it ok if I give you one of my business cards?"

"Yeah," He agreed and followed her through the living room and into the hallway where her handbag had been abandoned the night before. She fished about for a bit in the bag before coming up with a little silver box full of cards. She pulled one out and gave it to him. He pocketed it.

"So, I'll see you around?" She asked, feeling awkward all of a sudden. She hated 'goodbye' conversations. When were you supposed to get to the 'goodbye' part where she could just kick them out of her apartment? If only it was that simple - she wasn't great at small talk. _That_ was something Rinoa and Selphie had down to a 'T' - they could stand around and keep talking for up to 20 minutes after the word 'goodbye' had been said. Quistis couldn't do that. Once she'd said goodbye she expected the other person to leave.

"Yeah, I'll call you." Seifer said, shrugging his coat on and putting a hand on the door handle. It didn't look like Quistis was going to have the small-talk problem with him. Shame, because this was one of those rare occasions when she actually wanted to.

Her dissatisfaction was evidently clear on her face because Seifer grinned at her and slipped a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her in for one last apologetic kiss before opening the door and disappearing out of it. She watched him go, then shut the door gently and turned around. He hadn't been there for long, but already her apartment seemed too quiet without him. She picked her blazer off the floor, patted away any dirt, and took it and her handbag into her bedroom.

She glanced at the clock; 08:07, and began getting ready for her class, dressed in a leotard and light pink tights with her hair scraped back into a tight bun and a light application of make-up. Would Seifer call her?


End file.
